101 Nights with Frank Castle
by mayloc
Summary: Frank and Karen developing their relathionship Post S1.
1. One

**A/N:** I've read a lot of great fics about this topic lately, so this wasn't really necesary lol, but I coudn't help but write my own version. It will be kind of a series of one shots. Still don't know how many. Hope you enjoy it :)

 **Prologue**

Frank Castle did know fear. War was all about blood and shit and fear, and as far as he could remember, he had been fighting a war all his life. He was used to it. He felt _comfortable_ with it most of the time. A good soldier had to know fear if he wanted to survive, because fear could help you to stay alert and focus if you knew how to use it properly. Undomesticated fear, though, could eat you alive, and Frank had seen too many men losing their shit in the battlefield to be damn sure of it.

Frank had learnt to embrace this own fear long time ago because there was no other option if he wanted to survive. The fear of dying in some goddamn dusty dessert too far away from Maria's touch, the fear of never seeing his children ever again that it never disappeared. The feeling was always there in every single mission, running down his spine. So he had to keep moving, to keep shooting, to keep _breathing_ day after day to get the shit done to come home. In those moments, he preserved his fear as a treasure. He knew what it looked like, what it felt like. He could recognize it smell. He could control it and make it his best weapon, because Frank knew that once you were capable of understand your own fear, you could understand _everyone_ else's. And, in the middle of those fucking nights standing in front of the enemy, that knowledge made him stronger.

When his family was taken away from him, the fear became anger. After that day, the only feeling left was rage. Rage and guilt and loneliness. He gladly let those feelings took over his soul until they became his best friends, eating everything else inside him. They were the perfect ingredients of his revenge, and with the portrait of his family at his side and all the memories locked down inside his chest, he didn't need any other thing while blood of murderers and criminals was being spilled around the country because of _The Punisher_. Frank Castle didn't feel fear any of those times because there was nothing left for him to be afraid of anymore.

Until Karen.

 **One**

Karen Page used to believe in destiny. When she was a child, she had an unnerving propensity to see hints of that magical hand of fate in every single detail surrounding her, and she secretly enjoyed to drive her parents crazy by choosing the other way around and always taking the opposite of what they had expected: blue over pink, piano over guitar or basketball over baseball, just because she _knew_ she was the only one catching the signals. She was a smart girl and she had learned to pay attention. Through the years - and thankfully for everyone around her - that fascination to find the bigger plan in every single dust dot kind of simmered down, and her interest eventually shifted to resolve more mundane problems like to find out who had stolen her brother's bike or why Miss Anderson's curtains were always closed. But even then, Karen was still a strong believer that everything happened for a reason. From time to time, she would find herself thinking longingly about what destiny was planning for her and smiling hopeful at the future.

But then his brother suddenly died and her world felt slowly apart in the years that followed.

When Kevin died, her family died with him. They were never a perfect family or even a happy one, but without Kevin and the beginning of her obsessive quest for answers, the loneliness took over Karen's life without mercy. If that was what destiny had been planning for her, she decided that she didn't want to be part of it anymore; she was going to _fight it_. Karen left Vermont making that promise to herself and to Kevin, and she had been fighting since and against all odds, every time destiny had tried to knocked her out in that hell of a city.

Karen knew loneliness painfully well, but she had known happiness too, she _remembered_ it, and after all the things she had been through, she wasn't willing to give up her hope for things to get better. She was still a fighter.

On good days, being all by herself wasn't so bad. She took long walks around the city and aromatic lavender baths to clear her mind and to relax her body. She tried to cook some silly cake for work just to watch Ellison's sceptical expression while eating his probably too sugary portion, and she even was able to sleep more than three hours at a time.

On bad days, her memories came back to haunt her. She let herself cried and then she tried to hold on to the things that made her happy, like her work at the Bulletin or sharing a beer with Foggy from time to time now that Matt was gone.

On lucky days, she managed to get out alive from another kidnapping.

Three weeks was all she could wait before calling agent Madani. Karen knew she was recovering from some bad head injury taken in a fight in Central Park – that had been suspiciously notified to the press - and she didn't want to sound anxious over Frank Castle's safety in front of a federal agent, as much as she thought agent Madani could have help him at some point. Frank had been reported dead - once again - a week after the hotel explosion, but Karen had refused to believe it. It was too convenient.

She tried to put some flowers on her window at first – same white roses he had brought her - but, when nothing happened a week later, she felt kind of silly for trying and took them off.

Frank had been vanished one more time and, even if she didn't want to believe it, the truth was that he _actually_ could be dead and she was increasingly worried. By the third week after the hotel incident, Karen hadn't slept enough to be a functional person anymore.

Once agent Madani answered the phone, she didn't really have to ask.

"Off the record?"

"Of course."

"He is a free man now."

And that was it. Karen doubted that Frank Castle could ever be a free man _at all_ but she just nodded and thank her, breathing a sigh of relief and being still surprised by the news when she hung up. Frank was alive and he was no longer being persecuted by justice. It was way better than anything she had expected to hear.

But then, the feeling of loneliness hit her bones harder than usual.

 _Three weeks._

It was really cold on the waterfront when Karen arrived, with the sun already setting. She didn't intend to go there in the first place but, somehow, during her walk, her own steps carried her to the exact point where she and Frank had been meeting barely a month ago. It had been a long week of work at the newspaper and Ellison had been grumpier than usual with all that Christmas spirit that was already filling the air of the city. It was almost Friday night at the office and, having her article for the next number ready, her first thought was to call Foggy to invite him to dinner. Then, she remembered that he had a girlfriend now and, since Matt wasn't around anymore, every time they met, they made each other sad with all their shared Nelson & Murdock memories. So she had changed her mind in the last minute. Again.

Karen had finally left the Bulletin with her head full of words about a series of unresolved houses robberies that she had been following for the las two weeks, and without any other plan, she had decided to take a walk before going home to clear her mind.

She had been watching the landscape for a while, last rays of the Friday sun reflected in the quiet water. It was really calm there with just some couples passing by, and Karen let her eyes closed for a second, allowing herself a brief moment of peace.

She heard some footsteps approaching as she opened her eyes again.

"Hey."

Frank was standing right there, looking cautiously at her. His presence didn't felt real and Karen needed a moment to focus.

"Is this a coincidence?"

Frank shrugged, smiling briefly.

Of course _it wasn't_. Just like it wasn't a coincidence last time he approached her as a homeless man in the street.

"You called Madani."

Karen looked away, her gaze focused on the soft waves of water as her heart was pounding faster.

"Did she tell you?"

 _Did you call her?_

"Not exactly."

She looked at him again. As far as Karen knew, Frank didn't need to hide anymore, yet he was wearing that kind of undefined sportsman outfit with that black hoddie that he seemed to be comfortable with. Even with his hood on, Karen could tell that his hair was longer, and that a thick beard was growing fast all over his face. He looked more like a boxer than a marine.

"¿Are you spying on a federal agent now?"

"No, ma'am." The shadow of the beard framed his jaw when he smiled at her openly. "We just have a friend in common."

 _David Lieberman._

Karen didn't say it. She didn't have to. Instead,

"I'm glad you have friends, then. I heard you are a free man now."

Frank frowned and looked away, physically rejecting those words.

"Yeah, well - I guess Pete Castiglione is."

"Pete?"

He nodded.

Pete Castiglione. Karen looked at _Pete_ whiletrying to reconcile the name with the man that was standing in front of her. It didn't work well.

With a stoic movement, Frank put his hood down, his gaze steady in the middle of the dark while looking at her again.

"I didn't mean to disappear like that, Karen. I just wanted to let you know that I was still alive. I mean, I wanted to let you know _sooner_."

She felt her breath painfully catch in her throat.

 _Three weeks._

"¿What happened?"

"Things just got –uhm- complicated." He paused and Karen nodded. She knew Frank well enough to understand that, in his vocabulary, _complicated_ usually implied a huge amount of blood and dead bodies.

"It wouldn´t be you if it wasn't complicated."

His smile reflected hers.

"I try my best."

An apology was the last thing Karen had expected from Frank Castle. She wasn't even sure she had the right to demand one – or _anything_ \- from a man that have been saving her life practically since the day they met, and lately had been more like a ghost to the world than anything real. But he was offering one and it was very welcomed.

Karen checked his exposed face out for a moment, leaning a little bit closer by instinct. There were no bruises on his skin that she could tell, no scratches to be seen. It was almost odd to be looking at Frank that _clean_ and kind of hypnotizing. Last time she had paused to check on him like that, they were standing in an elevator after an explosion, and he was awfully damaged after saving her life _again._

And he was _definitely_ closer.

The knot she was feeling in her chest pulled a bit tighter and Karen look away maybe a little too rudely. She had to clear her throat before she could talk again.

"And how is Pete doing so far?"

Frank moved his head from side to side while shrugging. Karen was sure that his new identity wasn't feeling like a gift at all. She was surprised that he had even accepted the opportunity.

"Trying to figure it out what the hell is gonna do with his new life I guess."

For a moment, he looked exhausted under – what Karen knew – was the weight of that new life that has just started.

"Don't be too hard on him. He will do well, eventually."

Frank burst a short laugh and they remained silent for a couple of minutes. The temperature had dropped quite a bit, and her body was starting to shake.

"Tell me, Miss Page. What is a woman like you doing in a place like this on a Friday night?"

She was the one shrugging this time, holding back a shiver.

"Just walking."

Frank nodded.

"Let just walk, then." Karen looked at him, confused. Then she focused on the arm he was offering her. "Come on. I'll walk you home before you freeze to death."

"It's that Pete or Frank who's talking?"

"Both."

He was gazing at her in amusement and Karen couldn't help but laugh.

 _What the hell._

Maybe they could pretend, if just for a moment, that they were two normal people walking home on a Friday night. Maybe it felt good. She slipped her hand through the crook of Frank's arm with a soft movement while leaning toward him, the warm of his body wrapping her as they started walking.


	2. Two

**Two**

Frank gave her a cell phone number that night before leaving.

"In case you need to reach me." He said.

Karen was a bit surprised at first, but then she just assumed that now that he was - at least on paper - a normal citizen with no criminal record, they could just move towards a communication method more suitable for the twenty-first century than a pot of flowers in a window. Although she really liked the flowers.

In fact, Karen had actually started buying some white roses each week, just for the sake of having them around. In a way, the house felt less empty with those flowers shining inside, and she liked that. She felt welcomed every time she came back at her apartment. Men had bought her flowers before a couple of times – even if not with that explicit purpose, and surely with _very_ different intentions – but they were never white roses. Karen appreciated the irony that something so delicate and pure reminded her irrevocably - from the moment that he show up with the flowers - of such an overwhelming force of nature as Frank Castle was.

She had been staring vacantly for too long at her new fresh pot - which was placed at the other side of the table - when a loud beep woke her up. Her laptop's battery was running low and she needed to plug it in if she didn't want to lose what she had been writing down so far for her next article - which, to be fair, was almost _nothing._

She took the opportunity to stretch her neck and her hurting back while getting up from the chair and doing so. Her cup of coffee was already empty, so she walked through the kitchen to start filling it for the third time in the last few hours. She took just a small sip before her stomach growled loudly- making her aware that she was actually _starving._ It was way past dinner and she had barely eaten half of a sandwich early in the morning.

Karen glanced at the almost blank screen and sighed. The delivery date for the next Sunday issue was less than twenty four hours away. If she wasn't able to gather her ideas together into a productive train of thought _shortly_ , soon enough she was going to start writing about the damn flowers.

Her stomach growled again, and she finally decided that it was time to fill her body with something solid. She didn't have high expectations when she opened her fridge, though. Luckily enough, she still had some leftovers - fried rice and sesame chicken - from the Chinese food she ordered two days ago. She picked up the oyster pail and a fork – she was too tired to try to use the chopsticks properly - and opened up a beer before sitting down in front of her screen again.

She didn't like working from home because she could never concentrate properly, but it had been a busy day at the _Bulletin_. A direct bomb threat has been sent to the newspaper early in the afternoon and the building had been evacuated – according to the protocol - once it had been reported to the police. After Lewis, that kind of threats had been spreading like a plague across the city, and Karen didn't have any other option but to go home sooner.

She had just started eating when the buzz of her cell phone startled her enough to make a piece of the saucy chicken slip from her fork and over the laptop.

 _Shit._

Karen was still swearing while trying to clean the mess, when her eyes caught the name on the buzzing screen. She had saved the number just as _Pete._ Her heart jumped into her mouth like the fucking chicken.

"Fra-"

 _Shit._

She was never gonna get used to it.

"I hear about the newspaper. You ok?"

It took her a second to process the sound of his rough voice assaulting her ear.

"Yeah, fine. It was just a false alarm."

"You know I'm starting to think that your job defending criminals was the safe one."

Karen made her smile audible.

"Don't be so sure. Last time I was checking on a client in a hospital I was shot."

A brief tsk.

"It was just some shooting _in your general direction_. And didn´t the guy apologise shortly after?"

"He didn't, actually."

Karen heard a distant snort. A couple of hesitant seconds passed.

"What about Murdock? Did he?"

Her heart shrunk a little. She didn't expect that turn in the conversation.

"He never shot i _n my general direction_."

"You know what I mean."

She did. Karen remembered their very first and last discussion about Matt very well.

"Yeah, he did. Before he-, well-"

"Before he disappeared?"

That was even more unexpected. She hadn't told him anything about Matt, and Karen doubted that Frank had any interest in him anyway, but the disappearance of the Devil of Hell's kitchen had been reported everywhere. _Did he knew?_

"Did you-?

"Don't think he's dead."

Of course he knew.

"Me neither." It was true. She could felt it in her gut just like she had felt it with Frank before she had the confirmation that he was actually alive. Karen took a deep breath, the conversation in the diner that night with Frank still circling in her head. "But you were wrong."

"About what?"

"I love him and I miss him because he is family but I don't- _love_ him." The words left her mouth in a rush and she felt herself blushing. "That day- you were talking about something I wasn't feeling for him."

A brief silence and then-

"I was trying to get you the hell away from me. And look how well it worked."

Karen burst a laugh. She could hear Frank laughing too.

"I guess we were inevitable."

She felt herself blushing again, her hear pounding faster.

"I guess." The rough breathing of Frank was there again, loud and clear. For a second she wondered what it would it be like feeling it directly against her ear. "Take care, Karen."

"You too."

She needed a moment to recompose herself from the thought after hanging up the phone.


	3. Three

**A/N:** So I decided to play with Karen's past a little here. Since we don't know much, I'm assuming that Karen was just a couple of years older than Kevin and I'm taking the theory that his father was an important bussiness man that didn't really care about his children, and those bussiness had something to do with Kevin's death. I'm picturing her mother here more like a passive figure that is not happy with her life and her marriage even if she enjoys the money they had. I may write some more Karen and Kevin fashbacks. Thanks for reading! :)

 **Three**

 _The Bulletin_ was almost empty that night- Christmas Carol singing in the distant, a sweet and slightly alcoholic smell in the air as some of the offices' lights were going off.

Karen's fingers were typing mechanically, eyes moving slowly across the computer screen. She heard some steps approaching but she didn't bother to tilt her head to the door to see who it was. She didn't need to.

"Have you seen The Ghost of Christmas Past walking around this office? Because I think I'm having a massive _déjà vu_ here."

Karen raised her eyebrows at Ellison, barely looking at him as he stepped into her office – _Ben's office._

"Ha ha."

"I think it's _ho ho,_ if just for accuracy's sake."

Karen shot him a quick an unamused look as he placed himself at the edge of the couch.

"Fucking _ho_."

She was typing fast, trying to stay focus but Ellison didn't seem to care.

"Why are you still here, Karen? I found your article in my inbox two hours ago."

"I'm working on a new story." She was still typing, but the words jumbled together in her mind as she spoke and before she could write any other sentence. Karen snorted. "But now I've lost my train of thoughts. Thank you, Ellison."

She moved away from the computer while sitting up in the chair to look at her boss, arms crossed. He chuckled, unimpressed by her bad mood.

"Why the hell are you still here on _yet another_ Christmas Eve, Karen?"

 _Why indeed_.

Karen sighed.

 _Because I don't have anywhere else to go._

The answer was simple, the reasons much more complicated. Karen didn't have family, not really, and the family she had found in the city wasn't even there. Mat was gone and Foggy was out of town with Marci. She didn't have anybody else.

"I- love my work?"

"Karen-."

"Just twenty more minutes, okay?"

Ellison sighed while looking up at nothing in particular, ignoring her.

"I hope you're happy Ben. You've created a monster". Yeah, I _know_ you're happy you inquisitive bastard." Karen smiled sadly at the memory of Ben. She was planning to visit Doris the next day with a little Christmas present that it was already packed in one of her desk's drawers. Ellison looked back at her "I'm happy too a _nd_ worried."

"Twenty minutes and I'll leave it. I promise."

Ellison leaned forward, eyes half-closed behind his black glasses.

"I don't like being lied straight to my face Karen. Especially on Christmas."

"You don't even like Christmas, Ellison, and I do love my job."

He grunted, tossing her beard a couple of second before answering- that suspicions look that Karen knew so well right there in his eyes when he took his glasses off.

"It'll better be a hell of an article."

She smiled at him.

"It will be. Can I have my Scotch now, Mister Scrooge?"

Twenty minutes later, Karen was closing her office's door and taking her heels off while sitting on the couch- a glass of Scotch on her hand and the Christmas lights twinkling against her window as her only company. Sure she could go to her apartment, but she wasn't in the mood to face an empty house that night, at least not yet, and either way, her office was feeling a lot more like home lately.

She had been thinking about Frank, or to be fair, she had been thinking about him _more than usual._ She wanted to call him, she wanted to see him, but Karen doubted that _Feeling lonely at Christmas_ was on the list of Frank Castle's emergency situations to call him up. Feeling lonely at Christmas _and bleeding_ could have made it, though. And that was the kind of situation in which she preferred not to be involved anyway. Even if her damn long bloody record was speaking the contrary.

She took a drink from her glass.

 _It helps to not care so much, huh?_

It would be easier to not care if Frank wasn't the one usually bleeding around and bleeding more than anybody else. Or at least, more than anybody else who was still breathing.

Karen took another drink. Her phone was on the table.

 _How to say Merry Christmas to a man that has lost what he's lost?_

She shook her head, feeling a little ashamed for even thinking about the possibility of sharing her loneliness, if just for one night, with the loneliest man in the world. She emptied her glass at one gulp before putting it on the floor- then she curled herself into the couch thinking about Kevin.

" _We are gonna be late, Kev."_

 _Karen hears a distant snort coming from the other side of the closed door and waits. A couple of steps approach before the door opens with a sudden._

" _I don't even wanna go."_

 _His brother is pouting right in front her, big blue eyes matching hers- his face has a frown on it that Karen finds really cute._

" _I know but it's an important night for Paxton. We have to be there."_

 _Kevin can't help but smile at that little sign of rebellion. It was always Paxton or Mister Page between them and not "father" when no one was listening. Calling Paxton Page "father" was an insult for the ones that really care about their children._

" _They won't notice us anyway."_

 _He turns around to face himself in the mirror of the bathroom- fingers brushing a rebel lock of hair away from his face._

 _Karen knows Paxton Page doesn't care as long as the portrait of the perfect and happy family is done right in front of their guests, while their mother will be too drank to worry- but you don't really have a choice when you are a part of the Paxton's clan, one of the most powerful business families in Vermont._

" _Come on, pretty boy, five minutes smiling and shaking hands to strangers and we'll be done to do wherever we like. There are gonna be girls."_

 _She winks at his reflection in the mirror and burst a laugh as Kevin grimaces weirdly at her while buckling the last buttons of his white shirt._

" _Don't say it like that."_

 _The tie is a mess in his hands and he's so flustered that Karen can't help but giggle._

" _Stop it. You are doing it wrong again. Let me help."_

 _Kevin turns around to face Karen- her fingers already moving over the soft silk around his neck until the tie knot is easily done._

" _I have no idea how you do it so fast."_

" _It's a gift." Karen smiles, holding his jacket out for him. "Let's go."_

" _Sorry I've stained your dress, Karen."_

 _She frowns in confusion while following Kevin eyes from her face to his chest. When she looks down, Kevin's white shirt has turned red- her hands covered in blood._

Karen woke up with a start- her heart hammering in her chest.

For a frightening moment, she didn't know where she was. She didn't know _when_ she was and her hands were shaking. She fixed her eyes on the blood in those hands that was no longer there.

"Easy there, Karen."

The pressure of some other hands on her shoulders made her look up.

"Frank?"

"Hey."

Karen was still disoriented- her eyes moving around the room trying to find some anchor point with the current present.

Couch.

Frank.

Empty glass on the floor.

Frank.

Christmas lights over the window.

Frank.

Desk.

Computer.

Scotch.

Frank.

"You okay?"

She nods, breathing deep and still trembling a little- the vision of Kevin covered in blood fresh in her mind.

 _Frank._

"What the hell are you doing in my office at this tim- _what time is it?_ "

Frank moved his hands away from her to grab a chair and he sat in front of her.

"Past midnight. Your security system is snoring _Jingle Fucking Bells_ over the table." He chuckled. "Merry Christmas."

"Why are you here, Frank?"

He shrugged-his hands picking some bag up from the floor at his side.

"Just passing by." Karen's nose caught a delicious smell and her stomach growled audibly. She had skipped dinner yet again. Frank giggled at the sound. "It's a special delivery from the Liebermans- Turkey, mashed potatoes, some stuffing and cranberry sauce. Thought you may wanted to share."

"How did you know I was here?"

Frank shrugged again.

"Lucky guess. Your phone was disconnected and this building was nearer that your apartment."

Karen looked at her cell phone still on the desk. It should have run out of battery while she was sleeping.

"It's good to know that my poor social life is that obvious." Frank seemed lost for a moment, and Karen had the impression that he was about to apologize for something that he didn't quite understand. She smiled slightly at him. "It's ok. I'm glad you are here."

She grabbed the bag and moved to one side to let Frank space to sit down next to her. Her body shifted to his when the couch cave in a little under his weight and her heart jumped at the warm touch.

They started to take the containers out of the bag as Karen tried to concentrate on the food. She is impressed that there are even two pairs of plastic cutlery and some paper napkins.

"Wow. This looks delicious."

"David doesn't take no for an answer."

The turkey tasted wonderful and Karen can't help speaking with her mouth still full.

"Why did you want to say no to a dinner like this?"

Frank took his time to answer, chewing his food slowly.

"Happy family. Their two kids are great. Similar ages, you know?"

"Oh."

Karen felt that familiar lump growing in her throat as she caught the devastated look in Frank's eyes that is there every time he talks about his family. Suddenly, she didn't feel hungry anymore.

"My little girl loved Christmas. I know every kid love Christmas but Lisa was completely crazy over it. She started to decorate her room and the rest of the house on November. I never knew how she was able find the damn boxes on the basement and carry them all the way up to the house by her own. One minute it was a normal home and the netx the fucking Santa's house."

Frank laughed briefly and his sadness shook her all the way. Karen placed her food on the floor and leaned back on the coach – words slipping from her lips.

"My brother loved it too."

"Loved? Not anymore?"

"He died long time ago."

Frank looked at her pondering- the same way he did that day in the diner, when he asked her about her gun.

"Sorry to hear that."

"It was a car accident. He was sixteen."

Frank leaned back next to her with a smooth movement.

"This world is full of shit."

His voice was almost a whisper and Karen had to fight hard against the tears that were dancing in her eyes.

"Yeah, sometimes it is."

Frank laughed quietly.

"Karen Page, the ultimate optimist."

She shrugged.

"Well, right now it isn't so bad."

She let her head rest on his shoulder, and Frank Castle had a surprisingly comfortable shoulder. The contact startled him at first, but the tension of his muscles only lasted one second. They stayed that way- Frank's breathing moving her body to the beat.

"Whatever it is you think you owe me, you don't."

Karen was feeling drowsy again as she started to feel relaxed.

"What do you mean?"

She was finding really hard to speak legibly.

"All this. Looking after me, checking me out… You don't owe me anything."

She heard a distant snort.

"That's bullshit. Hell if I don't owe you, Karen. The trial, Lieberman, that day with Lewis…"Frank's voice became even lower. "But that's not the reason why I'm here."

"Then why?"

Karen fell asleep before she could hear the answer.


	4. Four

**A/N:** I've changed the tone of this chapter a little but I think it suits Karen well within this story. Hope it doesn't feel weird. Thanks for reading! :)

The New Year couldn't have started worst for Karen.

She was blaming mostly her shoes at the moment. She shouldn't have put her yellow heels on. She knew those shoes were bad luck - last time she put them on, she was accused of murder after all- even if they were perfect for her blue dress. She shouldn't have drunk those fruity cocktails that fast. She shouldn't have smile _that way_ at the hot waiter. And she _definitely_ shouldn't have lost her panties in that _well-stocked_ food pantry. Fuck, she even had some canapés leftovers stuck on her hair.

 _Fuck you, Foggy._

Sober-Karen knew it wasn't fair to blame her friend- that it wasn't his fault if she had acted like a horny and silly teenager in his New Year's Eve lawyer's firm party, but Drunk-Karen did need someone to blame apart from herself and her shoes, and blaming the person that had invited her to the fucking party just felt right at that moment.

In fact-

 _Fuck you, Foggy and Marci._

That and also –

"Fuck you, Frank Castle!"

She shouted it to the night as she was closing the cab door, and Drunk-Karen felt slightly better- her fucking yellow heels in one hand as she walked inside her building.

She shouldn't have gone to the damn party to begin with. She wasn't planning to, but Foggy had insisted, and the truth was that she needed some socialization time with the rest of the world outside The Bulletin from time to time and it was the last night of the year after all.

It seemed that she needed the hands of that hot waiter Jess- _Jim?_ \- on her ass too. When he had asked her to go to the back door during his break, Half-Drunk-Karen had said yes.

Everything was going quite well. Jim – _Jess?_ – had a playful tongue and some expert hands that were bringing shivers all along her body as the canapés' trays were falling around them, and it did feel good to be _touch_ after so long, to have her back pressed to the wall – hips pushing hard against hers and teeth bitten her neck.

But then it happened. Once Jess – _Jim's?_ fingers started working inside her, she had moaned the name. _The fucking name._

"Who is Frank?"

Sober-Karen felt so embarrassed that she left the pantry running without saying any other word. She had just stopped along her way to find a cab and go home, to drank a couple of more fancy cocktails in one glup - leaving her panties and what she was expecting to be more than one orgasm's session behind.

 _Happy Fucking New Year._

While entering her apartment at three in the morning, Sober-Karen just wanted to pass out in her bed under her blankets until the shame disappeared or sleep for a couple of years, maybe. But she was uncomfortably wet along her thighs and somehow still excited, so Drunk-Karen had decided to find some release first on the shower.

She had never thought of Frank in that _explicitly sexual_ way before. Sure she was attracted to him. More than that- she was hypnotized by his story. She had been so obsessed in her quest to find his humanity since they day she saw that bullet wound in his skull, that it almost had cost her her own life, and by finding it, she had found hers. Frank Castle had reconciled her with the things she had done to survive. They share a bond and she was very aware of that, just as much as she knew he was aware too, even if he didn't realized the extent of how important it was for her to have some presence in her life that didn't judge when she was holding a gun.

But Karen had never dared to fantasize about them being physical. The weight of his lost was too much, his pain so overwhelming when he opened up to her- his body feeling so unsecure every time they touched to think that they could hold that kind of intimacy. Even in the elevator that day, standing so close to each other, the moment passed like a ghost. The shadow of a kiss that was just that- a shadow. _But this?_ His name had slipped from her mouth at his own will when the fingers of another man were fucking her and now she was feeling that urge, now she wanted to be _him_ biting her neck and pressing her body hard against the wall _._

Karen dropped her handbag along with her heels as soon as she walked into her leaving room – scarf and coat barely on the couch. The zipper of her dress got stuck as she tried to unzipped it in her way to her bathroom and she decided to take her dress off over her head not without a little of contortionism in the process. When Karen finally arrived to her room, she was completely naked.

Frank Castle was right there.

He was just a silhouette among the shadows outside her window, standing in the fire escape, but it was definitely him.

Oh, the fucking _irony._

Sober-Karen wanted to run far far away. Drunk-Karen just started to laugh quite hysterically for more than necessary.

"And here it is, Frank Castle in one of his yet another _stellar appearances_ walking into my life again."

Frank didn't say a word and he didn't move, and Karen wasn't even sure that he could really hear her at all from the other side of the closed window. At least he had had the decency of not breaking into her apartment while she wasn't there, but still.

Drunk-Karen took a couple of steps forward- exposing half of her naked body to the moonlight because it was her damn house and it was her fucking room and why the hell not.

"You wanna come inside? _You wanna come inside and fuck me, Frank?_ Because fucking is what I should be doing right now with Jim or Jess or both, instead of feeling sorry for myself for not having heard a word from you since Christmas Day."

 _Instead of wanting to be fucking you._

Karen had woken up alone that day in a cold couch in her even colder office. She had a blanket covering her that she hadn't placed there, the dinner's leftovers of the night before where gone and she had hated it. She had hated him for bringing her another moment of comfort and care, just to take it away from her like that.

And now Frank was right there, a dark and unresponding presence in the middle of the night with his black coat that Karen was sure it was in the process of becoming a statue if he kept staying in the cold _that_ still for much longer.

 _Fuck this shit._

She wanted to be seen, she wanted to be heard.

Karen let her dress fell on the bed and her whole skin bristled – her nipples hardening, when she opened the window with both hands and the cold wind came in through and shook her nude body.

Frank was finally _seeing_ her, all pale skin exposed, she was making sure of it. His jaw tensed, but he didn't look away.

"Fuck you, Frank. _Fuck you_. You're not allowed to do this, you hear me? _You're not allowed_ to come into my life without permission whenever you want and make me feel that I'm actually part of something here if I'm not. You're not allowed if you're not gonna fucking _stay_."

Despite being quite close, Karen could barely see his face among the dark – she couldn't measure Frank's reaction aside of the tension of his lower jaw bone and the muscles of his neck, and that was what she hated the most of all that stupid situation. She felt _extremely_ cold and exhausted- all the air from her lungs burst out once she had stopped yelling at Frank's shadow. Her voice broke.

"If you excuse me, I'm gonna take my shower now. Do whatever the hell you want."

Frank didn't say any fucking word when she turned around and walked off her bedroom and that only increased her anger. She didn't bother to close the window.

Karen did actually masturbate in the shower, fast and quiet- out of pure frustration. She didn't think of anything- no forbidden names escaping from her lips, no stupid fantasies assaulting her mind, just the needing to shake all the rigidity of her body off. Then she cried.

When she came out of the bathroom after a long shower, Drunk-Karen was almost gone- a slightly headache breaking through. The smell of fresh coffee paralyzed her in her way to her kitchen.

 _Shit._

Frank was still there.

 _Of course he was_.

Frank Castle never ran away from a fight and she should have known better.

Her nose caught another smell as she slowly walked in- picking up her heels and her bag from the floor where she had thrown them, as she stepped closer. Frank was indeed in her kitchen. He was cooking something that smelled really good and he had his back to her.

"Hey."

When he turned around to look at her, Karen crossed her arms around her chest by instinct- bag and shoes shielding her. She was fully clothed –big pink sweater and some black leggings on, but she was feeling more naked than ever. Frank's eyes moved along her chest and she blushed.

"Nice shoes." Karen muttered a quiet "thanks" as Frank handed her a cup of coffee. "Here."

Feeling like an idiot with her hands full, she turned around herself foolishly a couple of times until she decided to leave the shoes and the bag on a chair. Then she sat down in front of the table with her cup of coffee. Frank was serving a pair of French toasts in two plates with some butter and syrup.

"Your pantry is a goddamn mess. You should try to eat as a normal person for a chance."

Frank was talking to her absently while he was cleaning some dishes. Karen tried a bite of her extremely early breakfast and then another. It tasted really good but her pride was stronger that her hunger.

"I'm not gonna apologize just because you made some nice breakfast, Frank."

He glanced at her, pausing her cleaning for a moment.

"What are you talking about? I'm the one apologizing here."

He turned his back to her, focusing on the dishes again.

"What the hell were you doing out there in the middle of the night, Frank?"

"You call me."

Karen almost chocked with a piece of the sweet bread. Her fork slipped from her fingers.

"I- _What?_ When?"

"Two lost calls a couple of hours ago."

 _Shit_. She didn't remember that at all.

Frank hadn't turned around yet and Karen was glad he couldn't catch her panic face.

"Did I- left you a message?"

"You didn't, and you didn't answer back." Frank looked back at her then and Karen's eyes dropped. Since she had followed whatever was his name to the back door of the club, she hadn't checked her phone and it was still inside her bag. "You scare the hell out of me and that's why I came here. The fire escape was the cleanest way to enter but I did not. I've just arrived when I saw you."

And he did indeed saw her. Hell if she hadn't let him _see_ her. Karen felt herself bushing again.

"I didn't- I- _Jesus."_ She breathed deeply as Frank took a chair to sit next to her. "It's New Year's Eve, Frank. People get drank and do stupid things like making stupid calls at three in the morning. You could have thought that it was just that."

"Not with people like us."

He was right. You stopped doing those kinds of overtime calls when you had experienced more than one life or death situation with the person you were calling. It was a silly argument but it was the actual truth, even if she didn't remember it.

"I'm sorry I scared you but you need to stop climbing up my window or whatever every time you think I'm in trouble. I can handle myself, Frank."

Karen knew she wasn't being entirely fair and the truth was that if he hadn't showed up all those times before, she may be dead. But it had been a shitty night and she was too tired.

"I know that. I know that, Karen. But-"

"I don't need a savior, Frank. I just want you in my life. I want you to be _present_."

Frank looked at her in what she was sure it was his panic face. She touched his arm and she felt it again - his muscles stiffing at the contact.

"K-Karen, every time you are close to me, you get yourself in trouble."

Karen snorted.

"Get over yourself, Frank. I've been getting myself in trouble since I was nineteen."

Frank burst a short laugh – the tension of his body relaxing a little.

"No surprise there, ma'am."

 _That._ The reason she needed him. The fact that he wasn't surprised when the rest of the world - aside from Elison- would have rejected that affirmation. The fact that he could see so easily through her mask.

"You are staying."

Karen squeezed his arm and Frank's expression softened.

"I'm staying."


End file.
